’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. "Well that's no reason why he should treat your ladyship so shamefully, I'm sure. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. ‘You put that thing away now, missie.
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